


Cut Shot

by calico_fiction



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bear/Bear, Blow Jobs, Body Hair, Character(s) of Color, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Crossdressing, Deep Throating, Face-Fucking, Facial Hair, Flirting, Fluff, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Hotel Sex, Leather, Lingerie, Long Hair, M/M, Making Out, Marking, Minor humiliation kink, Motorcycles, Nipple Play, Older Characters, Panties, Plot Twists, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Public Display of Affection, Roleplay, Romance, Strength Kink, Walk Of Shame, minor exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23082679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calico_fiction/pseuds/calico_fiction
Summary: "One o' my usual, Sam," Seán requests gruffly, unable to tear his gaze away from the man in front of him even as he addresses his old friend. "And another one for the fella." The guy grins up at him, wide and bright with charming smile lines and dark, captivating eyes."You got it, boss," Sam agrees easily, with a hint of laughter in her voice. The drinks are made in short order, a neat whiskey slid across the bar for Seán and something bright yellow in a highball for Handsome. He slides his thick fingers along the condensation of the glass, smirking when Seán has to clear his suddenly dry throat."I'll be over there," Seán informs him, gesturing vaguely behind him toward the pool table. "If you get the urge to thank me."
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Cut Shot

Seán's usual bar is the same as it always is when he walks in late in the afternoon; all dark wood and vintage license plates, pictures of shiny custom hogs in black frames. The lighting is yellowed and dim, the bar pseudo-rustic, sweet pipe smoke curling up towards the ceiling. There are a few regulars, like him, scattered around. Three men from the local riding club and one of their old ladies filling the space with chatter, muted as compared to how it would be later tonight, two loners playing a near silent game of billiards. Some Judas Priest tune struggles to be heard out of the shaky speakers in the too-old jukebox over by the hallway to the bathrooms.

Seán's eyes are drawn to the bar, to the man sitting there, looking back at him like he was just waiting for Seán to come in. He has warm-toned brown skin and long, coarse hair bound in a tight braid that goes all the way down to the waist of his tight black jeans. All that dark hair is striking against the bold red of his shirt. Seán is drawn over to him like a screw to a magnet, or like maybe Seán was looking for him too.

"Seán," Sam, the bartender, greets him with a short bob of her head as he comes up on the bar to the magnetic guy's left. He stands close, too close, and imagines wistfully that he can feel the warmth of the guy's body through the supple leather of his jacket. This close, Seán can see how soft and worn the guy's shirt is. It's gone thin enough with use that Seán can follow the shadows of the guy's body through it with his eyes.

"One o' my usual, Sam," Seán requests gruffly, unable to tear his gaze away from the man in front of him even as he addresses his old friend. "And another one for the fella." The guy grins up at him, wide and bright with charming smile lines and dark, captivating eyes.

"You got it, boss," Sam agrees easily, with a hint of laughter in her voice. The drinks are made in short order, a neat whiskey slid across the bar for Seán and something bright yellow in a highball for Handsome. He slides his thick fingers along the condensation of the glass, smirking when Seán has to clear his suddenly dry throat.

"I'll be over there," Seán informs him, gesturing vaguely behind him toward the pool table. "If you get the urge to thank me."

"I'll keep it in mind," Handsome says. His voice is as rich and smooth as the mouthful of whiskey Seán gulps down.

Seán is vaguely friendly with the two guys playing already and he's able to cut in on the action without much fuss. Billiards isn't his game but he's not terrible at it. He is doing much worse today than he might otherwise though, because he can't stop looking over at Handsome, catching his eye every time because he's looking at Seán too. When he's facing the bar, Seán lets his own long hair fall over his shoulder into his face. He's been told at length how pretty he looks peering up through the fiery curtain of it. More than once Seán picks a more difficult cut shot to take just so that he can put his back to the bar as well, so that he can bend over the table and fantasize about Handsome coming up behind him to put his big hands all over him and pretend to guide his shot.

Finally, when Seán is well and truly losing beyond all recovery, Handsome leaves the bar and comes over to the table. Seán carefully doesn't watch him, hyper aware of his presence looming closer and closer. When he gets into Seán's space he flattens a hand against Seán's back, ostensibly to get his attention, but from the way he lingers it's obvious that he actually just wanted to touch. Seán plays along, straightening up and turning to give Handsome a questioning look.

Handsome is bold, bolder than Seán could ever be with a stranger. He slides his hand into Seán's jacket and then underneath the loose hem of his white t-shirt to rest, warm and inviting, against the skin of Seán's side. Seán isn't surprised to find that his hands are rough from work.

"Thank you," Handsome murmurs, as if he came over here just to be courteous.

"My pleasure," Seán says, happy to keep playing the part if it means Handsome won't stop touching him. Handsome catches him with that beautiful grin again.

"I certainly hope so," he hints, less than subtle even without the clear message of his warm hand on Seán's bare skin. With his other hand, Handsome reaches up to tuck Seán's hair behind his ear, tracing his fingers from Seán's temple along the angle of his jaw, petting over his beard, down his neck. Butterflies flutter around in Seán's stomach like he's thirty years younger than he is with a new crush. At the same time, he wants to take Handsome's thick fingers into his mouth and suck them. Handsome seems to know exactly the effect he's having on Seán, judging by the way his crow's feet deepen and his dark eyes twinkle and shine with smug amusement.

"Seán," Seán introduces, holding out his hand to shake. Handsome takes it in a firm grip, holding on for far too long to be considered friendly. "You new here?"

"Yeah," Handsome confirms with a short nod. "Out of town on business. Logan."

"I could show ya 'round," Seán offers, maybe a little bit too eagerly. But Logan doesn't seem put off. If anything he crowds in closer.

"I'd like that," he says. "I'm more than willing to put myself in your capable hands." Logan starts playing with one of the hands in question, stroking Seán's fingers up and down in a slow, steady rhythm. Seán's mouth goes dry.

"I could show you a little something right now," he rasps, and Logan gives him another wide grin like he gave the right answer on a tough trivia. He nudges at Seán's side where his other hand still rests, hot, against Seán's skin, wordlessly telling him to lead the way.

Seán leads Logan over to the old jukebox. It's a shallow excuse to stay close, to get closer, to move out of view of the few other patrons in the bar; it's not like there's much chance that Logan has never seen a damn jukebox before. Seán feels silly doing something so transparent, but Logan seems to appreciate the effort because when they get to the corner he corrals Seán backwards through the doorway into the back hall. He presses Seán back against the wall just beyond where the light of the main bar room spills through, and slides their mouths together.

Their facial hair scrapes together as they kiss, soft raspy noises all along their skin that send tingles down Seán's spine. Seán's beard is longer but Logan's is wirier, quickly tenderizing Seán's lips. Logan tastes like the drink Seán bought him, sour mix and simple syrup, and that addictive taste of another man's mouth that is like no other flavor on earth. Seán lets himself melt against the wall as Logan presses into him, big and firm. He meets Logan move for move when Logan starts to roll their hips together, even as his heart races to think of all the people just beyond the edge of the door frame that know his face. 

Logan gathers up all of Seán's hair - there's a lot of it - in his hand and uses it to tug Seán's head to the side and start sucking and biting at his neck. Seán has to bite down on his own tongue to keep from making a needy sound. He loves being marked up, loves how vibrant the marks are in contrast to his pale complexion, how long they always last because of the same. They're like little reminders. Souvenirs.

"I have a place I can show you in return," Logan says when he pulls back to admire his work. He raises his eyebrows and holds up a hotel key card. "Seems only fair." Seán can't help but agree.

"Have a good night, gentlemen," Sam calls teasingly from behind the bar as Seán leads Logan back out between the tables towards the door. Seán shoots her an ineffectual glare over his shoulder, and Sam's cheerful laugh follows them outside into the fading sunlight.

Seán's bike is waiting for them, deep forest green and chrome. He flips his hair over his shoulder and swings his leg over the hog, the leather of the seat creaking against the leather of his pants. He winks at Logan as he tucks on his matching green helmet. He knows he looks fucking good straddling his bike, his pants stretched obscenely across his groin and straining over his thick thighs, and he's gratified to see that knowledge reflected back at him in Logan's eyes as he looks his fill. Seán hands over his extra helmet - red, and a perfect match to Logan's shirt - and Logan climbs on behind him. He scoots in close against Seán's back, the two of them touching from shoulders to hips, Logan's thighs pressed distractingly on either side of Seán's ass. Logan wraps his strong arms fully around Seán's waist, the warmth of his embrace somehow managing to make Seán feel totally encompassed even though he's a little bit bigger.

Finally, Seán starts up the bike. Call it a cliche, but riding turns Seán on. He thrills at the feeling of something so powerful between his legs, the engine rumble-purring underneath him. That feeling is heightened now, by the soft scrape of Logan's stubble against the side of Seán's neck.

The ride to Logan's hotel is short, passing in a blur of low simmering want. They can hardly keep their hands off each other once they arrive, Seán sliding his hands over Logan's shoulders and down his sides as the other man struggles to get his key card into the slot on the door. Finally there's a beep and the little light on the lock turns green, and Logan throws the door open and pushes Seán inside.

Logan wastes no time getting his hands back up Seán's shirt. He rubs his thumbs back and forth over the curve of Seán's belly, his calluses occasionally catching and pulling at Seán's body hair. If his slick, wet kisses weren't already enough to keep Seán ready and wanting, that certainly would do it. The touches, just barely too firm to be called a tease, get Seán closer and closer to desperate for more until he simply has no other option than to tear his jacket and shirt off. He drops them carelessly on the floor, barely even noticing as he steps backwards over them.

Logan rips off his own shirt, tossing it over his shoulder, and then immediately goes for Seán's pants. These pants have a button fly, which Logan tugs open in one smooth, firm yank. The muscles in his forearms visibly flex, making Seán's cock jump inside its confinement. Unfortunately, they have to step back from each other to get the rest of the way undressed. Seán also takes the opportunity to tie his hair up, snapping the hair tie from around his wrist to hold it all in a messy bun. He likes the way having it pulled back like this shows off the streaks of silver coming in at his temples.

Underneath his black jeans, Logan is wearing red boxer briefs that match his abandoned shirt perfectly, up to and including the way they're worn just thin enough that Seán can see the hint of his cock underneath. The wet spot at the tip, dark and even more see-through, makes Seán's mouth water. If the taste of another man's mouth is a delicacy, the taste of his cock is like a drug.

Seán himself, when he carefully peels leather away from his skin, reveals a pair of pink panties. They're lace at the front and at the back, connected by thin elastic strings at the sides that dig just so into the soft meat of his hips. The lace can be itchy in other situations, but the way it stimulates him when he gets hard like this is worth it every time.

"Oh, pretty boy!" Logan laughs out approvingly. His eyes as he drinks Seán in have melted into deep, dark pools. "I wouldn't have expected that from someone who looks like you."

"A pleasant surprise, I hope," Seán murmurs as he steps in closer to where Logan now sits on the edge of the bed. Logan laughs again and reaches out for him.

"Come here," he says, "and let me show you exactly how pleasant it is." Seán tucks himself in between Logan's legs eagerly. Logan frames Seán's broad hips with his hands, looking his fill. He traces both thumbs up the length of Seán's cock and Seán finally lets himself moan aloud. The touch of warm skin through the lace is exquisite. 

"So pretty…" Logan murmurs. He says it so low Seán isn't sure whether he was meant to hear it or not. But it doesn't matter. Logan keeps stroking Seán through his panties, still staring, enthralled at the thick lace-covered cock. "Tell me what you w- like."

Seán ignores the stutter, and doesn't bother to answer with words. Instead, he sinks to his knees right there between Logan's legs. It's not as easy a maneuver as it was when he was young, but it's graceful in its familiarity all the same. Seán wraps his arms around Logan's waist to hold him close and rubs his beard up along the golden inside of his thigh. Logan moans, low and rough, and grabs at Seán's biceps. Seán's arms are too big for even Logan's huge hands to wrap fully around, steel hard muscle covered in protective fat and thick skin, but Logan makes every effort to get a handful all the same. Seán can feel the muted ache of his grip and he knows that he'll be leaving here with finger-shaped bruises.

Seán mouths at Logan through his worn briefs, wetting the thin fabric. He nuzzles at Logan's warm, cradled balls with his crooked nose. Logan spreads his legs out wide obligingly, giving Seán all the room he needs to kiss and taste him. He finally takes one hand off of Seán just long enough to pull his waistband away and down so that his leaking cock can spring free against the side of Seán's face. Logan hisses through his teeth at the rough scratch of Seán's beard over his sensitive length, but Seán knows from the way he presses his hips closer that he likes the prickly sting of it. 

Logan tangles one hand in Seán's hair when Seán finally, gratefully, closes his mouth around the head of his cock. The rough skin of his fingers catch and pull at the fine copper strands as he buries them tight in between the curve of Seán's skull and his hair tie. He uses that leverage to press Seán's head down, make him take more cock into his mouth, and Seán goes with it easily. He's well practised at sucking cock and he knows how to relax his jaw, how to swallow past his gag reflex to let Logan fill him up. Logan babbles praise at Seán as Seán sucks him, his voice a low rumble-purr reminiscent of the bike engine.

"You're taking me so well," he breathes, his fingers flexing in Seán's hair. "Your mouth is so wet, so good. You look so pretty. Love the way you look on my cock." Seán soaks up the praise. It feels as good as any caress. He eagerly watches Logan's face as Logan holds his head and fucks into his mouth; the way his jaw visibly clenches underneath his meticulously groomed stubble before he lets his mouth fall open around a groan, the way his adam's apple bobs when he swallows hard after choking on a gasp, the way his hair is starting to curl out of its braid and frame his sweaty face like a dark halo.

It doesn't take long for Logan to get close, for his thrusts into Seán's mouth to get rough and lose their rhythm.

"Do you want to taste me?" he asks Seán, and Seán groans his answer around him. Logan pulls out of Seán's mouth so that just the fat head of his cock is resting heavily against Seán's tongue. Seán sucks eagerly at him as he jerks himself off in quick, rough strokes. He comes in Seán's mouth with a guttural growl, and then yanks Seán onto his feet to pull him into a bruising kiss before Seán even has a chance to swallow, pressing his own come deeper into Seán's mouth with his tongue.

When he catches his breath, Logan finally tugs his hand out of Seán's hair and backs himself up fully onto the bed. He peels his briefs all the way off and flings them away.

"Your turn now, pretty boy," he says. Seán doesn't need an embossed invitation. He all but tears off his panties before crawling onto the bed after Logan, the cheap mass market hotel comforter scratchy against his knees. He falls on top of Logan mouth-first, scraping his already sore and stretched out lips across Logan's furred chest, making himself shiver and whine. He thrusts his now mercifully bare hard-on in the vee of Logan's groin, sliding sporadically against Logan's softening cock where it's still slippery-wet from Seán's mouth.

Logan reaches behind himself and pulls a travel sized bottle of lube out from between the mattress and the wall. Despite his growing desperation, Seán puts forth a breathless laugh at that.

"Do you bring lube with you on all your business trips?" he teases. Logan shrugs, completely unabashed.

"You never know when you might need it," he points out. "I was a boy scout, you know." Seán laughs again.

"No, you weren't," he argues.

"No," Logan admits easily. "I wasn't." He presses the lube into Seán's hand and the conversation is over.

Seán starts slow, just petting his slicked up fingers against Logan's hole until Logan is sighing into it, pleased little breaths of unhurried want. When he deems it the right moment, Seán slips one finger in to the first knuckle. Logan doesn't take any time at all to adjust, and seems to have lost that lack of hurry now that Seán has finally pushed inside. He arches his back, pressing up insistently into Seán's touch, and when that doesn't work he goes on the offensive. He licks two fingers to get them warm and slick, and then rubs them in tight circles over Seán's nipple. Seán gasps, not expecting the stimulation, and then whimpers when Logan bends to take the other nipple into his mouth. He pinches it between his teeth, and wins. Seán stuffs Logan full with two fingers immediately, three soon after, and Logan takes them with ease. He rolls his hips even as he continues to suck at Seán's chest, until finally neither of them can take the teasing anymore.

Seán pulls his fingers free and lines his leaking cock up to Logan's hole. Logan sighs again, content, as Seán slowly begins to press himself inside. Logan is tight and hot, and less wet than he could be, but neither of them is complaining about the rough drag of friction. Seán takes it slow, but relentless, just the way that Logan likes it.

"Yes," Logan gasps, clinging to Seán, doing his damndest to pull him impossibly closer. "Yes, baby, gimme-"

"Anything," Seán promises breathlessly, helplessly breaking character too. "Anything. Always." Finally Seán bottoms out, fully sheathed deep inside his lover. Logan reaches up in the moment the two of them take to adjust and tugs Seán's hair back out of the hair tie. It cascades down over Seán's shoulders, around his face, and Logan runs his hands through it reverently. Seán presses his head into that tenderness, and starts to move.

Seán fucks Logan slow and sweet until Logan is sweaty and writhing, moaning and demanding it harder despite having already come. Of course Seán obliges. He said anything,  _ anything  _ and he meant it, and this is no sacrifice. As Seán picks up the pace, they don't so much kiss as press their mouths together and breathe each other in, their teeth occasionally knocking together from the force of Seán's thrusts. Logan wraps his strong legs around Seán's hips and buries his rough hands back in Seán's hair. He gives Seán's neck another bite, his hair one more good yank, and Seán is  _ gone _ .

"Fuck!" he shouts as he comes, and then as he shakes through the aftershocks, "Love you so much, baby." Logan sighs under him, satisfied at the familiar feeling of Seán coming inside him. Logan carefully cards his fingers through Seán's hair as Seán catches his breath, brushing out the knots he left and then tying it back up for Seán when it's smooth again.

"I think we did pretty well with that," Logan murmurs as Seán shakily lowers himself down at his side. He pets his hand down Seán's back, intimate and soothing. "I wasn't sure if we could pull it off, pretending not to know each other." His voice is still rough from his pleasure and the sound of it keeps Seán shivering long after his orgasm has fully passed. "Did it scratch your itch?"

"Mm," Seán hums in the affirmative. Logan laughs indulgently at him, well used to how Seán always wants to drop right off into sleep after coming.

"Don't go to sleep yet," he insists. He reaches over one-handed to open up the drawer in the bedside table. Knocking around in there where they've fallen behind the Gideon are the wedding bands they'd taken off to play. Logan scoops them up and takes Seán's hand. He touches their noses together as he slides the silver band onto Seán's finger the same way he did the first time they exchanged them. "Mr. Seeley."

"Mr. Seeley," Seán echoes back, taking the other ring and putting it where it belongs on Logan's finger. They fold their hands together then, reveling in the quiet  _ tink  _ of their rings knocking against each other.

They sleep in the hotel. They paid for the room for the night, after all. Not to mention, Seán craves that half smug, half degraded feeling of a morning walk of shame. Logan kisses him awake just after dawn and watches with heated eyes as Seán shimmies back into his slightly sticky panties. There's a dusty brown footprint on his white t-shirt from his own careless boot steps last night.

"You look very naughty," Logan approves when Seán spreads his arms to show him, making Seán's blood heat up. Logan himself has a change of fresh clothes to put on. For Seán to look like a mess and him perfectly put together was part of the plan. "Shame you weren't wearing any makeup to smear."

"Maybe next time," Seán rasps hopefully. Logan shakes his head at him, but he's smiling, and he pulls Seán in for a kiss.

"C'mon," Logan taunts softly against Seán's still tender lips. "Let's go parade you around a little before we go home."

After the parading is done, Seán blushing hotly at the raised eyebrow he gets from the girl at the front desk when Logan turns in his key, Logan wraps his arms around Seán again on his bike. He hugs him close and warm and comfortable as Seán drives them home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this work [visit my website](https://penlexfrank.wixsite.com/calicojack) for more original content!


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